Few Strings

One of these nights, he intended telling some evening's sweet young thing she was a natural restorative. If not out of genuine appreciation, then to enjoy her confusion.

She slipped from her flats. Their mouths maintaining a tenuous connection, he éundid her dress. Fabric slid down off her shoulders onto the carpet. Benedicte wore flimsy dessous. In better light Severin might've recognized the brand, having bought and presented enough gossamers throughout the decades.

Benedicte shed those garments easier than an evangelical his or her morality. She gave him a few beats to appraise before padding to the queen-sized bed and stressing the linen.

Severin undressed. He made it a function, not a performance. His position shaded her, making it impossible to see how she saw him. He lunged into bed. There she received him as if they'd been a longtime couple. Almost channeling Delphine, Benedicte clutched his hardening cock.

"When you told me about that woman at the other bar, and I had an inkling we'd be here, grabbing this is what I thought about first," Benedicte said.

"Not exactly subliminal, are we," he said.

He hoped she smirked. Releasing him, they twisted into comfortable positions. At least to start.

An "Ah!" cut the darkness. Hers. She asked whether he had, "ah," protection. Miserably failing to excise swarm out of his attitude, Severin answered by reaching into a bedside table drawer and extracting a pouch of foil-shrouded reliance.

"Right on top of the Gideon," he said. "And I prayed it'd still be there."

Severin sheathed himself, then returned to Benedicte. He caressed her cheek while she stroked his upper extremities. Naked and supine, their kisses exuded less heat. Mouth on either nipple, Severin fingered her. She responded in short order.

Benedicte's shaven secret moistened his fingers. Preparing for gratification she tensed. She caught her breath as if stifling them could prolong foreplay magic. Had they been a couple Severin would've pleasured her orally. And gladly.

That certainly would've been extensive!

Instead theirs was a one-stand. No way to prettify that. He been prowling for sex. Despite any woman's honor arguments otherwise, Benedicte had been seeking the same. Just release. No involvement. No complications. Truth be damned, both knew she'd have difficulty articulating that.

He rolled Benedicte face down, then stretched his anterior atop her posterior, wedging himself between her legs. Her hair resembled tossed seaweed. Pillows and his insistence muted any protests. Measured through many nights repetition, Severin eased into this new woman from behind.

Given their sexual intersection, Severin's straight limbs twitched. Pinned as she was, Benedicte's splayed legs could only twirl from knees downward.

Both liked their snug connection. Either he was large or she was tight. Regardless, theirs was a satisfying bind.

Since they'd never meet again after tomorrow, Severin didn't feel obliged towards gentleness. They weren't making or faking love. He drove. Not mindlessly, with intent. She possibly mistook his forceful nature for violence. That was until his rough rhythm swept her up and away. Benedicte's body became acquiescent. Not so much an extension of his; she became a being in his thrall. One he'd drive far. If possible, beyond her accustomed sexual delight.

At some point sex crossed ego with Severin. Before starting he'd already reached that point.

Inclination finally overcame restraint. His beat lost its deliberateness and leapt ahead. Instinctive determination now audibly knocked his waist into her ass until his last expulsion produced abrupt calm.

Severin sighed. Benedicte mumbled for Jesus. She exhaled and rolled onto her back. He sidled against her, then brushed errant strands off her face. Soon noise from the streets below dampened their heavy breathing.

Benedicte regained speech first.

"I don't know whether I was looking for that, but I'll damn well take it! Again and again. Man, it must be nice to be a credit to your gender, eh."

He wondered if Benedicte was aware she'd referenced a Linda Ronstadt song.

Severin answered, "When I was younger I could go longer. The only advantage I have now is I know what I'm doing."

They laughed. She nuzzled him. Her smiling face pressing into his upper arm felt good.

"So," Benedicte asked, "what do you do for an encore?"

Severin said, "Call room service and order breakfast later."